


Marks

by Queenofthefaceless



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cock Warming, Cowgirl Position, F/M, Face-Sitting, Missionary Position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29634120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthefaceless/pseuds/Queenofthefaceless
Summary: The arrangement of “friends with benefits” you’ve got going on with Mando takes a dangerously slippery slope.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84





	Marks

**Author's Note:**

> This is SMUT folks (face riding, cockwarming, cowgirl, rough missionary) + some fluff sprinkled in there (Also Mando is grumpy and rough af, but he warms up by the end). 18+ ONLY!!!!!!

If all that time spent by Mando’s side has taught you anything, it was the undeniable fact that he was damn good at his job.

He truly was the best bounty hunter out there. He was methodical, swift and creative. He did whatever he had to do to get the job done. You had watched and admired his techniques every time you tagged along the missions and each time, without fail, you were left astonished. There was something inspiring in the way he carried himself, yet something tragic and inviting about it at the same time. The years clearly hadn’t been nice to him, and his actions betrayed that.

But what he lacked in – or rather what he genuinely despised – was communication. Plain and simple.

He loathed small talk, any awkward conversation that served him, his assignments or his overall job any purpose. So the two of you barely spoke sometimes unless the situation truly called for it. you helped him deliver said bounties, find lodging and work your way around the ship, even providing additional weapons every once in a while, so you made yourself useful and thus he agreed to have you tag along.

However, your adventures had not led any shortage of _spicier_ events.

This had nothing to do with the missions. Not even in the slightest. This happened one rainy night, without either one of you fully realizing, but doing nothing against it as it had turned out to be a much needed affair.

_Mando returned to the ship, his armor glistening with water drops, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. He seemed to be examining his surroundings hectically until, eventually, his helmet turned to be met with you, you who could make nothing of the man beneath the armor, but truth be told, there was something utterly bewitching about his presence. It could’ve been his sheer strength, the way he protected you from any creature which lurked around you unnecessarily, or –_

_Or it could’ve been just him._

_You stood there, expecting something from him, and when both words and actions failed to precede his rather dramatic entrance, you took it upon yourself to initiate a much needed conversation, it seemed._

_“What happened?”_

_Just as you had anticipated, you were met with silence. Mando let a ragged huff escape from his throat and took a few steps towards you._

_“What the hell happened?” you insisted. “Answer me.”_

_“Droids. They stole our weapons. All of them.”_

_You stared at him, unable to believe it. You could’ve easily have found new weapons, that was no issue; but Mando’s attitude seemed out of the ordinary that night. He was wavering, as if longing for something that was not even there to begin with. He had made his hatred for droids well known right from the beginning, so now, you figured that he was beyond infuriated._

_“We’ll get others,” you said. “You gotta wash off your armor in the meantime.”_

_He grabbed your wrist, thus earning your attention and curiosity. Feeling anxious, your heartbeat racing inside your chest, you waited anticipatory for Mando’s next move, and to say that he surprised you was an absolute understatement._

Weeks later, you still failed to figure out how things had escalated so quickly that night. More importantly, how things escalated to such a natural degree, almost as if your bodies had been designed to be drawn to each other in every possible way. All of a sudden, there had been moans and huffs filling the Razor Crest’s dead air, skin on skin, lips teasing skin, Mando on top of you, burying himself inside of you…

And it had not been a onetime occurrence, either.

No, this went on till the present day; it seemed that Mando had gotten into the habit of fucking his problems and frustrations away rather than speaking of handling them otherwise. Not that you complained one bit. You had your own inner demons to fight, and those one-on-one sweaty sessions provided you with a level of comfort that you couldn’t have expected.

Mando was, much like on the field, straightforward, rough and almost insatiable. He teased you mercilessly, either eating you out until you cried out for him to fuck you, but retreating right before you could feel the throes of passion consume you, or taking you from behind, pounding his hips into yours right up until you could barely breathe. He would occasionally sneak a hand from behind, wrap it around your throat like a pretty necklace and mutter “That’s a good girl”, which, though you didn’t admit it out loud, drove you absolutely insane.

Yes, Mando was agonizingly good at sex, but that was it.

That was all there was between the two of you.

Whenever he made you cum, it was completely unintentional. He wasn’t really trying to make you cum, but with his endless teasing and his harsh actions, your body had become incredibly responsive and sensitive to his movements and actions. You couldn’t help it. he felt just so fantastic inside of you, moving in and out, filling you up in the most sinful, yet pleasurable ways that you could’ve exploded. And once he noticed your beautifully fucked out face, Mando’s ego and drive both grew ten times in their respective size.

But that was all. Relief. A brief moment of pleasure and thrill, a lustful game at which Mando seemed to be winning. Once that was done with, you went back to being partners. In every other setting, Mando was not fond of touching. While that was not really the case either when your bodies collided, he seemed to be having a strong “no touching” rule going on which you understood and respected. You conformed to the non-verbal agreement. It had become a necessity, something to soothe and relax you both.

But on some level, you were questioning if Mando would ever see you as more than a sexual relief, a pawn in that game. It was a simple, fleeting thought, and yet you never complained or dared to bring it up. You didn’t want to add unnecessary talk to the list of reasons that made Mando enraged or annoyed.

Although… it was an attractive and interesting risk you were suddenly pondering over.

Even so, you didn’t dare bring it up or voice it.

You helped him fix the speeder for more than half of the day, and you quickly realized Mando was getting increasingly frustrated. You could hear his breaths, unsteady and harsh even through the modulator, which made you decide to wait inside the ship. The lack of communication suddenly felt constricting and it began to suffocate you, but you were not about to let that show.

You were surprised when barely a few minutes had passed before Mando followed you onto the ship, his visor seemingly focused solely on you.

“Any luck?” you asked.

He shook his head as no and approached you.

“Maybe you should take a break, and try again tomorrow.”

He stood so close to you now that you could see every detail of his armor. You could even hear his breaths beneath the helmet, more irregular than you had ever heard. He never removed his helmet, not even when he thrust himself harshly into you. He did not allow for any touch other than the very basic ones during sex, and you wondered just how many things were left undiscovered about him, just how much did he endure that left him so rough, grumpy and even a little broken.

“I need you,” he cooed, reaching for your wrist.

Mentally preparing yourself, you sighed and nodded, starting to remove your clothes. He preferred you to do that yourself to save time; he was not particularly keen on foreplay. Sex to him was like any other mission: straight to the point with a successful outcome.

So you succumbed.

Mando grabbed your arms, thus putting an end to your striptease. Confused, you frowned at him, watching breathlessly as he slowly removed the straps of your shirt, letting them fall off of your shoulders, then handling your pants and, at last, your underwear. You shivered under his touch, suddenly so careful and smooth, as opposed to every other time he watched you undress or, under special circumstances, when he took matters into his own hands and quite literally ripped the cloths off of you.

Also the idea that you were now in uncharted territory was something else to make you tremble. It made you slightly anxious about what was about to happen.

“What are you doing?” you muttered, unable to contain your curiosity.

Mando offered no response. Instead, he removed his gloves, tossing them to the floor, extending one hand to you, which you hesitantly took, and guided you back into the cockpit. More confused and anxious than before, you almost couldn’t believe it when Mando laid on the floor on the thick blanket he procured a few days ago – particularly for situations like that – and signaled you with his index and middle finger to have your rightful seat.

“W – Where?” you gulped, examining his clothed body.

“On my face.”

You gagged on nothing but air, eyes wide as you remained naked above him. You were unsure if you even heard him correctly. That man was masterful with his mouth, but he only ate you out teasingly three times before, none of which solidified itself with a grand finale, which you knew was his sole purpose.

The implications of his desire were much greater, and the added pressure aided you with nothing. You had no clue how to respond, or if you should do it at all.

You took far too long to make any verbal or physical affirmation, so Mando grabbed your ankles and slowly lowered you over him. Gulping, you looked up just as he moved his hands to the sides of his helmet and carefully removed it, placing it somewhere in his vicinity. You had to fight the impulse to look down, but there wasn’t much time to do so, either: Mando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you down all the way on his face. The contact made you moan on the first touch. You haven’t felt him that close to you before, and the moment he began moving his tongue against your clit, you just didn’t have it in you anymore to fight it. You rolled your hips to the filthy rhythm his tongue established, rocking against it, nearly _dying_ to feel more of his mouth on you.

Mando whispered some things to you, all the while sucking and licking your lips and your bud, the vibration of his voice rushing through your sensitive spot and traveling through your entire body like a wide, hot flash. Mando’s grip on your hips was harsh and secure, and somewhere along the motions and the sounds, you felt his hands move along with you as you rocked against his face, hungry for everything that man had to offer.

“Yes – _yes_ – oh, kriffing – h-hell – _yes_ – “

You were no longer in control over what you said or did; Mando was simply maddening at eating you out and not long after you moaned your little encouragements to him, you felt your body burn with the force and heat of a hundred suns. You felt paralyzed by your own climax, and you couldn’t hold in your moans, especially not when Mando moved his hands to your ass, squeezing it tightly a few times.

The lack of his warm breath against your core made you aware of what had happened, and you could barely catch your breath.

“You are so good, cyare,” he groaned from in between your legs.

You never heard him speak in Mando’a before and it should have been illegal to sound that good whilst not capturing the essence of it. You wanted to ask him what it meant, what else he could say, but Mando’s kisses against your thighs made it impossible for you to even think about anything else.

“Gar ganar ner kar’ta, cyar’ika,” he moaned under you. “Gar cuyir Pal’vut.”

You unconsciously grinded on him, holding yourself down on him and pushing yourself further on him, and it was more than sufficient for Mando to receive the message.

When he ended the sweet torture in between your legs, there was a momentary hesitation on his part. It was something he had thought about many times before, but, at the same time, in that moment with you, it felt like a much needed escape.

He lifted his head, streaks of soft, messy hair noticeable now, full lips on display and the most dashing and warm brown eyes you had ever seen.

He gave you an unspoken permission to lose yourself in that moment, to be selfish and take whatever it was that you wanted. Your very first instinct was to run your fingers through his hair, in an attempt to tame it somehow. He did not seem to mind it or be uncomfortable with it, which was a good sign, but you didn’t want to push it, so you stopped, simply taking in the image of the man who was capable of providing you with such immense and intense pleasure, and leave so many of your questions unanswered.

You found that he was very direct when it came to carnal desires, but everything else was wrapped in mystery.

“Can I… kiss you?”

 _How bold of me_ , you thought, already expecting the usual silence or the decisive rejection.

But neither happened.

Instead, Mando drew his face closer to yours, his eyes scanning yours carefully, and whispered a rather shaky “ _Please_ ”.

It was another first time that day, it seemed; it was for the first time you had heard that word come out of his mouth, and something about that fact, paired with the experience itself, made you tremble. In an almost rush, you pressed your lips against his, resisting the urge to moan at how incredible it felt. Not just getting a taste of those lips – and subsequently tasting yourself on them – but being able to witness and touch the entirety of that intricate man.

The kiss deepened, both of your eagerness easily sensed in the deep, yet sloppy motions of your tongues, entangled around one another, exploring their respective mouths. Mando groaned, the feeling of your fingers in his hair and over his face sending him over an edge that he hadn’t been aware even existed. He broke the kiss momentarily, trying to dispose of the armor and the rest of his clothes as fast as possible. Under your hungry eyes, he found it more difficult than usual. A string of cusses left his tongue, but you were quick to stop him.

“Let me help. Will you?”

He looked at you in awe, nodding, and watched bewitchingly so as you removed the rest of the armor, then his clothes. To no one present’s surprise, he was already achingly hard, so you didn’t want to waste any more precious time.

You slowly sunk onto him, one hand guiding his cock inside of you; you had lived that moment already numerous times, but each time it happened it somehow managed to shake you and surprise you at how fitting he was. He managed to fill you up in more than just one way, more so now for whatever reason.

It was the first time he allowed for you to be on top of him.

You held his thighs to push yourself up and down on him, to grin onto him and make everything feel as good as possible. Only this time it’s far more special: you get to see Mando’s facial expressions, and it is an absolute _treat_. His face is scrunched up, veins popping on his neck as he groans into your neck, right at your collarbone, arms flexed as he holds onto your hips, aiding you in your movements. That image alone is sufficient to send you into a frenzy, and it works wonders in your quest to chase that high.

You feel his fingers snake their way up the bone of your spine, tantalizingly slow, and wrapping themselves around your neck. Your body aches and shivers, and he knows it, too. He knows that’s the one move you truly cannot resist. He pulls you in closer to him by the neck and he kisses you passionately, intimately and deeply, moaning into the kiss. The vibration and the pure taste of it triggers a moan from you as well, and you run your fingers through his locks to push yourself further down on him, his cock hitting that sweet spot of yours instantly.

You almost cum at that single feeling.

“Such a good girl – “Mando groans, gripping your hips to help you move faster.

There’s nothing you can reply. The only thing you can do is practically jump up and down on him, mouth agape and body boneless in his hands and under his spell. With each additional hit of that spot inside of you, you get more and more restless, desperate to cum. You move your hands on his bare back, barely scratching the surface of his flesh, but when you feel him clench and convulse under you, your nails dig a little further.

You arch your back right as he comes, the feeling of his hot seed burning through you. Your nails sink deeper into his flesh. You seek him, the man behind the armor yet again, and pull his face in, smashing your lips onto his, an unknown fury and desire washing over you as you cum as well. He responds with that same emotion, deepening the kiss so that you don’t realize when he takes charge and resides on top of you, lifting your thigh above his shoulder and thrusts into you. The movement takes you by surprise and the way he goes in and out of you feels like nothing ever before. He goes deep, at an angle that allows your body to welcome his completely, but it’s not rough. It’s not fast-paced and desperate. It’s moderate and intimate, like there was nothing more important but the two of you.

“You feel so – so good – “you mumble, your hands still on his back and your nails digging further. “Yes – you always feel the b-best – “

Mando’s never admitted it out loud, but encouragements such as that one represented something so powerful to him that he could scarcely contain himself when he heard them. He smiles fugitively, admiring your face up close in that spectacular frame, moving his hips a little faster. He feels your nails onto his back, and it spurs him on like a magical charm. He instantly knows he isn’t gonna last long anymore.

“C – Cyar’ika – “

He moans in a throated manner when he comes the second time, gasping along with it and slowing his thrusts, but he grabs your thigh and kisses it gently, and you lose it. You cum as well with a few more hits on that spot, jerking your hips a little forward to meet his, and your nails lose control. They dig hard into his back, causing Mando to moan, his cock nearly twitching inside of you. He’s sweaty and hot, and so are you. You’re both boneless, and Mando doesn’t even pull out of you. He stays there, for once taking the time to feel all of you at once.

You release the grip you had on his back, and you run your fingers over it instead, feeling something sticky. Instantly you become concerned.

“Mando,” you whisper, eyes staring right into his.

You forget yourself for a brief moment. Looking into his eyes seems like the easiest thing in the world, but the fact that he finally allowed you to do that was much more than you would’ve ever dreamed.

“I think I hurt you,” you say.

When you retreat your hands, you’re shocked to see tiny strings of blood dripping on your fingers. You gasp, and Mando catches your arms to take a look. He says nothing for a while, but finally he pulls out and lifts you up, cleaning your fingers with the corner of the blanket.

“I didn’t want to – I’m sorry, Mando.”

He looks at you, realizing that you were nearly shaking with fear and guilt. He shakes his head and, in another premiere for the day, smiles fondly at you.

It was the most sincere and heartfelt smile you had ever seen, and it made all the guilt melt away.

“You can never hurt me, cyar’ika.”

“What does that mean? You never spoke Mando’a before.”

He chuckles, the sound tickling your ears. You can see how flustered he got, out of the blue, and it makes up such a contrasting picture with the man from before that it catches you off guard over how endearing he truly is.

“It means darling.”

You wish you could hide your astonishment at what you just hear, but in reality, not so much. Mando finally succeeded in leaving you wordless.

“And – before? When you said – “

“Gar ganar ner kar’ta, cyar’ika.”

“Yes, that.”

_“You have my heart, darling.”_

You went beyond any qualms you might have had about him or whatever it was that was going on between you two.

“You’re the one thing I truly care about,” he continues, now cleaning you, applying a gentle pressure to your core.

You huffed, frantically trying to hide just how flustered you were. “This is probably one of the longest conversations we’ve ever had.”

“I’m… sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“The reason why I avoid talking, especially now, with you and… since this all started… is because I don’t – I don’t wanna say the wrong things to you.”

You frowned, seeking his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I… _need_ you, Y/N. More than you will ever know. And I am not great with conversations. I’m afraid that… if I open my mouth to talk to you, I’ll… say something stupid or inappropriate and you’ll walk away.”

You cup his face, pulling him in for a kiss, and you notice, much to your shock, that Mando has his eyes closed and he’s – _oh, Maker._

He’s _trembling_. _Visibly_ so.

“Mando – “

“Din. My name is Din.”

A gasp escapes your lips unexpectedly and you can only smile at him, caressing his scruffy cheek.

“ _Din_. I am not going to walk away. I promise.”

You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his hair, slowly and carefully, watching his every reaction. He’s all but purring under your touch, smile breaking from the corners of his lips. He’s staring at you in awe, as if you were the most valuable work of art ever designed, and the most valuable one he had the privilege of laying his eyes on.

“Din?”

“Yes?”

“Gar ganar ner kar’ta.“

Completely in shock, Din breaks your touch and pulls you in for a maddening kiss, his tongue apparently battling with yours for dominance, but there is no need for it. You knew for a fact that you were doomed a while ago, but now you were absolutely certain that you belonged, heart, soul and body, to that damned Mandalorian.


End file.
